


Little West Academia

by Raptorofwar



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: Cowboy AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Romance, Slow Burn, Wild West AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raptorofwar/pseuds/Raptorofwar
Summary: In which a dream is followed, guns are drawn, and two opposites find themselves pulled together. Mainly Diakko, with some Barblotte and Hamanda on the side. Very on the side. A few hints. Ah, well.Don't worry about the "major character deaths" part. I promise not to make an unhappy story.Inspired by Jackie Que-nothanks' Cowboy Casanova animatic. And some of her notes on the AU. Changed several roles. Check it out.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NkPiG3L_YSoFirst ever fic, so feel free to leave feedback on things I could've done better. Also, what's a dependable posting schedule? Never heard of her.
Relationships: Barbara Parker/Lotte Yanson, Diana Cavendish/Atsuko "Akko" Kagari, Hannah England/Amanda O'Neill, Ursula Callistis | Chariot du Nord/Croix Meridies
Comments: 22
Kudos: 58





	1. A Minor Trainwreck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a train arrives with minor difficulties.

Andrew was not enjoying himself.

He was a Hanbridge, for god’s sakes. He was on the fast track to a government position due to his connections. At the very least he’d be a senator, one day maybe even president. He was heir to one of the biggest fortunes in the country, had access to political information and power most incumbents could only dream of, and was son to one of the most influential politicians in the history of the states.

So what was he doing on this train in the middle of this desert heading to this barely-a-town in the middle of nowhere?

Granted, the train itself wasn’t too much to complain about, at least in first class. The seats were appointed in soft velvet, and the walls were paneled with elegant mahogany. The insides were cool, inured to the burning heat spread by the noonday sun as it beat down on the desert. The windows were adorned with two sets of drapes, one sheer and one silk, to block out the sun if the occupants of the booth desired, and the panes themselves were spotless, allowing a crystal clear lookout at a landscape that had originally piqued Andrew’s interest. The Southwest had a certain harsh, arid beauty, and when the sun shone just so onto the outlandish rock formations, the whole thing was just shy of breathtaking.

Right now, however, a harsh unwavering light beat down upon a flat plain of undifferentiated scrubland. Brown, dying brush stuck up in jagged patches, in between the dried, cracked dirt. A few small dust devils meandered in the distance, kicking up dust and dirt. Hardly an inspiring view. Andrew curled his lip in distaste.

His scowl deepened when he reflected on his destination; Luna Nova, a town so small the only reason it had a train station at all was due to significant financial and political pressure by a wealthy family with an estate nearby. The town had almost no industry at all, and was slapped together by various individuals forced to use it as a semi-permanent rest stop. The name was given by the French explorer that established the first post down here a century ago; whether as a joke or some delusion of grandeur, Andrew wasn’t clear.

As if the town wasn’t bad enough, the area was purportedly rife with unlawful activity, and law enforcement was hardly stringent. Every other day some poor bloke was robbed at gunpoint, or worse. Andrew shuddered to think what would happen to him if he encountered one of those ruffians, far from home and from any kind of aid whatsoever.

For the nth time Andrew pulled out the letter he’d received from his father, perusing it in the hopes some more forthcoming explanation could be uncovered from the scant few sentences it contained. Utterly devoid of any pleasantries, it simply requested Andrew take the next train down to Luna Nova for an “opportunity”. As to what kind of opportunity, the letter itself was unforthcoming.

“Hey, come on. Put that away. Burning holes in that scrap with your eyes isn’t going to do any good.” Andrew looked up to see his friend Frank grinning at him. They were old friends from school, and Frank had generously offered to accompany him to Luna Nova.

Andrew growled in response, eliciting chuckles from Frank.

“Look, Andrew, we’re pulling into the station now. Chin up!” Frank pointed at a small wooden station, a patchwork of nailed boards covering various holes. In truth, it was a glorified platform and ramp.

What held Andrew’s attention, however, was the horse-drawn carriage off to the side. In front of it stood an elderly man in a butler’s uniform, sweating buckets in the harsh heat. In fact, he looked like he was about to pass out. The black uniform probably didn’t help.

He also was holding a handwritten sign reading “Mr. Andrew Hanbridge”.

Andrew gathered his luggage and had just opened the booth’s door when something barreled into him, sending him sprawling onto the floor. “Andrew!” Frank’s voice cried out.

Andrew stared up at the ceiling for a full ten seconds, contemplating his luck, before sitting up, rubbing his head and looking at what had knocked him over.

_ ‘Who,’ _ he mentally corrected.

He was looking at a brunette girl around half a foot shorter than him. Her hair went down past her shoulders, topped by a white stetson. She wore a dyed red leather vest over an orange shirt, and instead of a skirt she had on a pair of working canvas trousers. Andrew supposed a boyish style was more utilitarian in such an environment, although he still disapproved of the break from custom. A green brooch sat below her collar, and a polka dotted knapsack was thrown over her left shoulder. Quite frankly, she seemed entirely unremarkable, if not for, and this was just a teensy little detail Andrew happened to notice, the remarkably large revolver on her hip.

The girl moaned in pain, clutching her own head, and glared indignantly at Andrew. She had red eyes, which was unusual, to say the least.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” she snapped testily.

Andrew stood up and dusted himself off nonchalantly, trying his best to recover what dignity he could from the awkward situation. Frank stared from the doorway of the booth, unsure what to do.

“I could say the same of you, Miss…?” Andrew trailed off as he offered a hand to the girl. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, although he wasn’t sure one should treat such an uncouth individual with such a degree of respect. Perhaps more derision was in order?

The girl took the hand unhesitatingly and Andrew helped her up. She brushed her off and planted both hands on her hips, grinning broadly at Andrew, the accident apparently forgotten entirely.

“Kagari Atsuko!” She frowned, thinking. “Wait, no, Atsuko Kagari!” she said, then beamed at Andrew. “Call me Akko!” She held out a hand for a proper handshake.

Andrew didn’t take it. “Well, Ms. Akko, please watch your step next time. Someone else might not respond too courteously to being bowled over.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and made his way towards the train’s exit, Frank trailing behind apologizing to the girl.

“Well you’re a rude snob!” Akko hollered from where she stood. 

Andrew paid her no mind. Frank caught up, smiling worriedly at Andrew. “It’s no problem to be a bit nicer, don’tcha think?”

Andrew shrugged, mind already moving on to the carriage he’d seen.

“It doesn’t matter. The odds are good we’ll never see her ever again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the fic will not be from Andrew's perspective. Some of it will be.


	2. New in Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a conflict is established.

The few stragglers outside going about their business did their best not to make eye contact with the strange, energetic girl practically bounding off the train.

Akko planted her boots in the dirt outside the station and surveyed the main street, a hundred-foot wide dirt corridor framed by wooden buildings. She grinned, ground her heels a bit deeper into the grit, and jumped up into the air. So this was Luna Nova! She looked around, hands on her hips, admiring the admittedly shabby and fairly deserted street.

Then she wilted. It was  _ hot _ outside. Akko slumped over, hands on her thighs, panting. The cowboy hat perched jauntily on her head helped shade out some of the sun, but it didn’t do anything to block out the sweltering, blisteringly dry heat. What does it take to get a drink around here?

_____

Amanda was polishing a mug. Not that anyone was ordering; all the regulars had already filed in and taken their usual whiskeys, beers, and gins. It was an old trick of the trade, polishing a mug. It put people at ease, or at least more at ease than standing there and staring made them. Plus, Amanda thought it made her look cool. She  _ felt  _ cool in her usual bartending getup, a black vest thrown over a white blouse and black trousers. It was almost fancy. A girl Amanda had a fling with once said it looked like a suit.

That being said, the middle of the day was never a particularly interesting set of hours. Most of the real party animals were making a living, and Amanda didn’t feel like trying to strike up a conversation with the few sullen lowlifes who didn’t have anything better to do than drink at noon.

Amanda sighed, then jumped as the saloon doors banged against the walls, dropping the mug in the process. In the doorway stood Akko, one foot raised from the position where she’d just kicked the door open energetically.

The few conversations in the saloon died instantly. The pianist, some poor bloke hoping to make a few cents from tips trailed off, the last few notes clanging dissonantly. All eyes were on Akko, who gulped nervously. Somehow her throat felt even drier than it had before. Amanda watched, one eyebrow raised.

She stepped forward, floorboards creaking loudly. Akko flinched at the noise, and stepped gingerly over to the bar. She pulled out a barstool, the legs scraping against the floor, and sat down gingerly. Then she looked expectantly at Amanda.

Amanda grinned inwardly. Here was some fun.

“C-could I get something to drink?” Akko stuttered, stuttering and casting nervous, apologetic smiles at the truculent stares aimed at her.

Amanda pretended not to notice. She scrubbed at a nonexistent spot on the handle.

Akko cleared her throat. “Could I get something to drink, please?” she repeated, a little louder.

Amanda looked sideways at her. “What’ll it be?” she drawled.

Akko did a quick once-over of the wall of assorted multicolored-yet-dull bottles behind Amanda. She grimaced. Akko had never been a fan of alcohol.

“Milk, please.”

Amanda guffawed. “This is a saloon. Order a real drink,” she said, smirking and leaning over the bar.

Akko reeled back in her stool, almost falling off. “What! Milk isn’t a drink?”

Amanda snorted, shrugged, and went to get this strange girl her ludicrous order. She didn’t have milk up front, so she went into the backroom to see what she could find.

Akko was left sitting awkwardly at the bar, acutely aware of the eyes focused on her. She gulped, turned around, and waved.

“Hi everyone! I’m Atsuko Kagari! Call me Akko.”

Not a single person moved a muscle. A bead of sweat traced down Akko’s face. She chuckled nervously and scooted back to face the back of the bar. What was taking the barkeep so long? Alright, so it’d been around 20 seconds, but still…

Amanda returned, bottle of milk in hand. She filled up a mug and slid it over to Akko, who just barely caught it before it fell off the table. Akko raised it to her mouth and took a long chug.

“By the way, that’ll be a dollar.”

Akko choked on her drink, and slammed the mug down on the table.

“What?” she screamed, agog at Amanda, who grinned toothily.

“You heard me. A dollar. Milk isn’t easy to come by around these parts, and it spoils quickly. You’re lucky I even had any.”

Akko sputtered, “But I only make $30 a month!”

Amanda shrugged. “Ain’t my problem.”

Akko buried her hands in her hair, both elbows on the counter, and tried desperately to sort out her finances mentally. She came to town with almost nothing, and she needed money for food and…!

A voice behind her spoke out, smooth and calm. “Amanda, don’t overcharge just because she doesn’t know better.”

Akko whirled, turning her head to see…

Oh wow.

A woman stood behind Akko, tall and elegant, with a faint trace of a smile playing across her lips. A pitch black cowboy hat nested on top of tumbling, unusual blonde and light green locks. Her silky hair framed a delicate, perfectly proportioned face. She wore a black tailcoat, a white button-up shirt underneath. A pair of extremely dark navy blue jeans was held up by a simple leather belt, fastened with a gold belt buckle engraved with the letter C. The look was completed with a pair of elegant black leather shoes.

Akko’s mouth hung open like an abandoned barn’s door. The woman raised a hand, clothed in black, soft leather gloves, and closed it gently with two fingers. Akko unconsciously raised a hand to her chin.

“Put her drink on my tab. And get me a glass of whiskey,” the beautiful woman said cooly, leaning up against the bar, looking at Akko with sky blue eyes. Amanda nodded hastily and reached up to get a glass to fill the woman’s order.

The silence if anything seemed to get heavier. The beautiful woman looked over at the pianist and commanded, “Play something cheery.” The pianist jumped and started clanging out some cheesy cantina song. The woman then raised her voice and said, with an air of unbrooked authority, “Everyone about your business.”

Conversation started up almost immediately, albeit forced, with people still sneaking looks at the bar.

Akko noticed none of this, of course. Her brain didn’t seem to be working right.

Amanda slid the glass of whiskey over to the woman, who caught it effortlessly and raised it to her mouth. She took a good long drink, and Akko stared at her throat working as she downed a third of the glass.

The woman set the glass down silently, and looked back over at Akko, who twitched and found herself in control of her faculties once more. She grabbed her mug and downed the last of the milk, mostly to calm herself down.

“Atsuko Kagari, was it?” the woman inquired politely.

Akko nodded energetically. “Call me Akko!” she beamed. “Wow, I thought everyone in this town was sullen and mean, but you’re really nice! And pretty. I mean, not in a weird way! Thanks for paying for my drink! What’s your name?”

The woman blinked, caught off guard by the barrage of words Akko threw at her. “My name is Diana.”

“Diana?” Akko echoed. “It’s a really nice name, it suits you. Is that belt buckle real gold? Why are you wearing black? Aren’t you hot? I mean, of course you are, but-” Akko flushed red.  _ ‘SHUT UP YOU IDIOT. Did I just call her hot?’ _

Diana seemed not to notice. “You get used to the heat if you’ve been here a while.” She frowned. “You have something right there… give me a second.”

Akko froze as Diana reached into her coat, removed a handkerchief, and wiped away Akko’s milk mustache.

“Are you ok? You’re quite red,” Diana remarked casually.

Akko blushed even harder. “Anyways, that’s enough about me. How about you?” Diana asked, leaning in closer. A frown crossed her pretty face. “Something about you seems familiar. Have we met?”

Akko stammered, “I, uh, I don’t think so. Yeah, um, I’m Akko.”  _ ‘Stupid, you’ve already said that.’ _ “I’m 19 years old. I like salty pickled plums, I can eat a whole watermelon in a minute and a half, and Chariot du Nord is my idol.”

Diana raised an eyebrow. “Chariot du Nord?”

Akko felt much more at ease. Here was a topic she could talk about. “Chariot’s amazing! She’s the best sharpshooter ever! She spends all her energy and time helping people, and she’d always make everyone happy whenever she came into a town!”

Akko remembered the day she saw Chariot. She’d been a little girl, and she’d ran to see the Arizona ranger that was passing through. She was shocked to see it was a woman, and a woman so pretty at that! Chariot’s red hair under her white cowboy drew everyone’s eye, and Akko had almost had a heart attack when Chariot walked up to her individually. Chariot took a quarter from her pocket, tossed it into the air, then fired her trademark Shiny revolver. She had plucked the quarter from the air, leaned down, and handed it smiling to a beaming Akko. Akko gasped at the coin, now with a perfectly circular hole through the middle.

Akko still had that coin. She took it out now and waved it in front of Diana’s face.

“Look! I got this quarter from her!”

Diana smiled condescendingly. “Yes, Chariot du Nord. I’ve heard of her fame… or rather, her infamy. Wasn’t she arrested for threatening a government official?”

Akko pouted. “That man was corrupt and used his cronies to cover it up! Chariot was innocent.”

“Not to mention she’s nowhere to be seen now.”

Akko slammed her palms into the bar. “She’s still around! She has been and continues to be the best ranger ever! She’s my hero! In fact,” she announced while getting up off her chair, “She’s the one that inspired me to come here and become a sheriff!”

All conversation stopped again, although this time the faces that stared in Akko’s direction were more shocked than suspicious. Akko looked around, startled. “What? What did I say?” she asked.

Diana finished her whiskey. Her whole demeanour had changed; whereas before she’d been politely attentive, now she froze over like a wall of ice. Akko shivered. “Diana?”

“I’m afraid I don’t share your respect for Ms. du Nord, Akko. And I do believe you’d be best off,” she says as she flips her hair back, “if you stopped fostering a juvenile admiration for her as well.” Diana clinked a few coins onto the counter, turned and strode towards the doors. She had just pushed them open when she stopped, turned her head, and remarked lightly, “Unfortunately, I think we’ll be seeing rather more of each other,” before stepping out. Akko stared at the doors, still lightly swinging.

Amanda whistled. “You have no idea how close you were to meeting your maker.”

Akko looked at her, bewildered.

_____

The poster was yellowed and torn at the edges, but Diana’s face, steely and determined, was clearly recognizable. Her full name, Diana Cavendish, was printed in big block letters below her portrait.

“Also known as the Blue Eyed Snake. Wanted for murder, aggravated assault, armed robbery, and other crimes. Reward,” read out Amanda, who’d taken Akko to the sheriff’s office bounty wall and pointed out the poster. Not that it was hard to notice; it was right in the middle of the board, the other miscellaneous posters nailed away from it, almost respectfully.

“She’s a big fish, that one. Too big for a squirt like you to handle.” Amanda almost felt sorry for Akko. “The best thing you could do would be to get right back on that train.”

Akko was looking down at the floor. Amanda glanced down at her hands. They were actually shaking, she was that nervous. Amanda sighed, then raised a hand to put it on Akko’s shoulder as some meager comfort.

Only to surprisingly find her hand locked in a vice-like clamp between both of Akko’s, which had shot up to hold it.

Amanda looked at Akko, startled, and almost jumped back. Akko’s face was inches from Amanda’s, and her eyes were shining. You could practically see the stars in them.

Akko whispered something unintelligible.

Amanda squirmed, trying to extricate her hands from the crazy person’s iron grip. “What?”

“I have a rival,” Akko breathed.

Amanda’s eyes widened. Akko wasn’t shaking out of fear, but rather out of  _ excitement _ .

She released Amanda’s hands and jumped into the air, both arms extended upwards, shouting in joy.

“I HAVE A RIVAL!”


	3. Past Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the past is briefly (not) considered.

Two figures waited by three saddled horses. Hannah England and Barbara Parker were also known criminals, their posters nailed to the sheriff’s board, albeit with fewer zeros in their bounties. Diana strode towards them, mind already in action. So there was new law enforcement being sent in? There hadn’t been anything of the sort for years, ever since she had personally ran the last sheriff out of town, holes in his hat and pant cuffs on fire. Well, at least this “Akko” seemed inexperienced. Easy to fluster. Youthful. Naive. At any rate, a simple obstacle to dismantle and destroy.

The trio saddled up. Diana filled them in on the newcomer in town and the basics of their conversation.

“Hey Barbs. Now that there’s a sheriff, shouldn’t you try to spend a bit more time with your girl before you lose the chance?” Hannah bantered cheerily.

Barbara frowned and shrugged nonchalantly, but Diana noticed her grip on the reins of her horse tighten. “Lotte’s not my girl. Besides, she’s smart. She’ll understand why I can’t show up to our book club.”

Hannah smirked. “Eh, it doesn’t matter. That dumb sheriff doesn’t sound like she’d be able to do a thing even if you chose to stroll into town in broad daylight, shotgun in one hand and volume of  _ Nightfall _ in the other.” She then turned her attention on Diana. “So, did you enjoy chatting up Ms. Sheriff?”

Diana sniffed. “I hardly see what was supposed to be enjoyable about it. She wasn’t particularly remarkable, notable, or even very interesting.”

“That’s a lot of descriptors you’re using.”

“Precision of language is important. She was a rather ordinary girl.”

“So ordinary that you actually ordered a drink? It isn’t like you to drink whiskey, or alcohol at all. And you spent ten minutes chatting when we were just supposed to pick up some basic supplies.” Hannah grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Diana looked at her with a venomous, frigid glare, and the mirth died in Hannah’s throat. There was a reason Diana had such a high bounty. Hannah coughed, and the trio rode in silence.

Truth be told, Diana was still thinking about Akko. Something about her was familiar, and Diana had an excellent memory. Akko didn’t have “one of those faces” where you got the person confused with someone else. No, those red shining eyes were too unusual, and that grin was…

Diana shook her head, and did her best to eject thoughts of Akko from her mind. There were bigger fish to fry.

_____

The setting sun’s light shone through the sheriff office’s singular small window, filling it with an orange glow. The office was small, and doubled as a place to sleep. A desk and a wooden chair sat between the door and the cot in the corner. The far side of the office split into two separate cells, bedrolls lying on the ground. The walls were dull and splintered, at least what could be made of them underneath the dozens of newspaper clippings and photographs of Chariot du Nord. Akko had lovingly collected them ever since she was 6, taking special care not to rip them. Her parents never understood it, and bemoaned the fact their daughter never developed any normal hobbies, like playing with dolls or needlework.

In any case, the room had every evidence of Akko’s newly established presence, save the actual presence of Akko Kagari.

Akko was on the roof of the office, laid on the roofing tiles, staring up into the sky. She loved sunsets. A few painted clouds drifted across the fiery orange sky, turned to a pastel inferno by the setting sun. Streaks of orange and red gradually died as the cool tones of dusk gradually poured into view.

“The room’s too cramped,” Akko murmured to herself. She traced a cloud with her finger, watching it turn into a dragon, then a unicorn, then a duck. Then, she pulled out her revolver and inspected it.

In her hands was a Colt .45 revolver, extensively modified, although not by Akko herself. It was gilded, coated in mother-of-pearl and gold, and along the barrel was embedded 7 green shards, arranged in the shape of the Big Dipper. Akko swung out the cylinder and spun it gently with her index finger. It revolved effortlessly and soundlessly, no friction interfering with its movement. Akko smiled and clicked the cylinder back into position. This was Akko’s most prized treasure, the closest thing she had to Chariot du Nord.

The Shiny Revolver.

The name was a bit kitschy, but Akko didn’t care. With this gun, Chariot had brought order to the lawless West, enforced justice, and become a hero. No one knew where Chariot had gotten it, and by all regards it was one of a kind, reputed to fire straight at 200 yards. It was said that it couldn’t miss a shot, at least under Chariot’s ownership, and Akko had no intention of breaking that streak.

Akko yawned, laid her hands, still holding the gun on her chest, and smiled up at the night sky. The first of the night’s stars had started to twinkle, and Akko could just make out Polaris in the night sky when she dozed off, dreaming of the past.

It had been a lazy Santa Fe Saturday. Training had ended early, and Akko had, in her youthful, inexperienced wisdom, decided to take a walk out into the desert, with no water, no food, no protection. It had been late afternoon, just like today, and she’d wanted to go far out where she would be alone, to look at the stars.

It was ludicrously hot, however, and Akko was drenched in sweat only a few minutes out of town. She was just barely out of sight of Santa Fe, and was just preparing to turn back, when she heard the sound of growling.

Akko whirled, face to face with slavering jaws and narrowed, wild eyes. The wolf who had successfully stalked up on her was not cute. Its mange-ridden fur showed holes, and its fangs smelled of rot and blood. It looked starved, but for all its revolting condition the wolf looked perfectly capable of tearing out Akko’s throat.

Akko backpedaled frantically as the wolf stalked forwards, snarling menacingly. The two kept pace steadily. Akko gulped.  _ ‘I should’ve known better. Is this how I go out? This stupidly?’ _

“Hey…” Akko said frantically, “Good boy. Stay. Staaaay. Come on, you don’t want to eat me! I taste bad. All stringy and… uh… just nasty.”

The wolf was not dissuaded. Drool spooled onto the grit and sand. Maybe it was rabid? Akko couldn’t tell. It didn’t look like it was foaming, but maybe a rabid creature didn’t always foam? There was enough saliva.

The jaws snapped, and Akko was jolted back from her rambling thoughts just as the back of her heel tripped over a root protruding from the ground. She fell onto her back, and scrambled on the sand. Her hands couldn’t seem to find purchase to pull her back.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the root she tripped over. Except… it wasn’t a root? It shone, catching the setting sun and almost blinding Akko. She scrabbled at it and pulled. With a puff of sand she sent a clod of dirt flying, revealing a gilded Colt .45 revolver, almost pristine. She leveled it at the oncoming wolf.

The creature paused, surprised by the sudden glint of metal. It was uneasy now. What should’ve been an easy meal suddenly showed resistance, and an unexpected new object in its hands. Still, it was famished.

Akko leveled the revolver at the wolf.

_ ‘This isn’t right,’ _ she thought.  _ ‘He’s just hungry.’ _

Akko gulped, and aimed a bit down, between her and the wolf. She pulled the trigger. When the bullet left the barrel, it almost looked like it left a golden trail. A resounding, satisfying “BANG!” sounded, and a puff of dirt shot up from the ground.

The wolf had experience with firearms before. It scarpered, tail between its legs. Akko remained on the floor, legs splayed, gun trailing a thin line of smoke from the bullet’s exit point. She almost absent-mindedly swung out the cylinder; empty. That shot Akko just fired had been the last one in the chamber. Akko smiled grimly. If that wolf hadn’t backed off…

Then it clicked in her head. She knew what she was holding.

_____

A figure stood next to Akko’s sleeping body, long hair trailing in the wind. The stars shone overhead, glinting off the Shiny Revolver. The figure knelt down besides Akko and reached for the gun, but froze when Akko suddenly moved. Akko shifted in her sleep, clutched the gun closer, and smiled slightly. The figure sighed, and brought its hand to Akko’s head, gently combing Akko’s hair.

“Noctu orfrei… aude fraetor,” it whispered, and the revolver’s green shards twinkled slightly under the moonlight.


	4. A Showing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which introductions are made.

Amanda wasn’t sure why she had agreed to show this loud fool around town. Maybe it’s because she was tired of Akko’s incessant knocking on her front door. The banging did not help Amanda’s throbbing head from last night’s drinking competition. Some say it’s bad practice for a bartender to drink their own wares, but Amanda had a reputation to maintain. She was almost certain she won that one.

“So where to first?” Akko’s voice cut through this particular line of thinking.

“Well, I s’pose we should start at the general store.” The two trudged along the empty street. It was a crisp morning, almost refreshing, or as refreshing as it could be in such an environment.

They stopped in front of a rickety wooden building. Amanda pushed through the door, which rang a bell nailed its top, and Akko followed, surveying the contents of the store trepidatiously. It was all fairly mundane stuff; flour, sugar, things you might need for everyday life. Most of the shelves were covered with a layer of dust. A woman with long blue hair was browsing.

“Morning Ms. Callistis,” Amanda said. The woman started, then turned towards the duo.

“Good morning, Ms. O’Neill. And this must be Ms. Kagari.” She smiled kindly, adjusting her glasses.

Akko smiled, but she couldn’t help staring a little. The woman was dressed plainly, but her hair was a surprising shade of blue. Maybe she dyed it? “Good morning! Please call me Akko.”

The woman nodded. “I’m Ursula Callistis. I heard about your arrival in town.”

An awkward silence dragged on. Ursula winced apologetically. “Well, I’d better be going now. It was nice to meet you!” she said, as she pushed out the door.

Akko looked at Amanda questioningly. Amanda shrugged.

“I don’t know much about Ursula. She’s… well, she’s kind of weird. She introduced herself as a teacher, but she does a lot of witch-y things. Little incantations, good luck charms. She’s harmless, though.”

The shopkeeper sitting in a tall stool behind the counter hadn’t noticed Amanda and Akko enter, despite the bell and the conversation; they were busily absorbed in a novel. Akko could make out the word “Nightfall” on the front cover.

Amanda strolled up to the counter and rapped on the book. The shopkeeper yelped, and dropped the book onto the counter with a thud.

“WelcomehowmayIhelpy- Amanda?” The shopkeeper’s startled expression morphed into one of mild annoyance. “Don’t do that! You startled me.”

Amanda raised her hands placatingly. “Sorry, Lotte. I was showing red-eyes here around.”

Lotte peered around Amanda. Akko beamed. “Hi! I’m Akko.”

“Good morning Akko, and nice to meet you.” Lotte smiled back. “If you ever need anything, this is the place for it. What brings you to Luna Nova?”

“Work!” Akko grinned. “I’m the new sheriff.”

Lotte’s smile faltered. “O-oh…” she stuttered. She tried to smile again, but her face didn’t seem to be working right.  _ ‘Barbara,’  _ she thought. Lotte tried to ask Akko something more, but her voice didn’t seem to be working. Besides, Amanda was already pulling Akko along, out of the store. Akko smiled apologetically back at Lotte.

Lotte sighed. At least the new sheriff seemed nice. Maybe it’d turn out ok?

_____

Next on the list was the town pharmacist, right next to the general store. “She’s a bit of an oddity, but she’s the closest thing we have to a doc in this town. We’re a lot luckier than most.”

Akko had her doubts. The room they pushed into looked positively evil. Bottles of various medicines jostled with drying mushrooms and plants for space on the shelves. Animal bones were everywhere, hung up on the wall or arranged in skeletons that couldn’t have come from something that ever existed… or could it? Strange murky jars were filled with various animal parts soaked in brine. Akko examined one a bit more closely.

An eyeball spun in the fluid to look back at her. Akko shrieked and flung herself backwards. A bang sounded, and the last thing Akko remembered was looking up as a human skull grinned down at her and banged into her forehead.

She came to on a cot, two figures leaning over her. One was Amanda, looking annoyed, but there was a definite hint of concern playing through her eyes. Another was a neutral looking pale woman with long mauve hair.

Akko rubbed her head and sat up. “Wha-” she vocalized, before the woman shoved a glass into her hands. “Drink this,” she said.

Akko grimaced at the bubbling concoction, then raised it to her lips.

“So, doc Sucy,” Amanda said, “How is she?”

“She’s fine,” responded Sucy in a monotone. “Doesn’t need any medicine or anything. A bonk on the head shouldn’t cause any permanent damage.”

Amanda cocked her head. “So what’d you give her?”

“Enough laxatives to unstop a cow.”

Akko spat out the potion before she could swallow. “What the hell?!” she cried.

“I wanted to see what would happen,” said Sucy nonchalantly.

_____

“Come on, Sucy’s a little weird and more than a little mean, but she’s good at what she does.”

Amanda tried to placate a fuming Akko. Akko harrumphed, then begrudged a smile.

“I’m not actually mad,” Akko shrugged. “Some introduction though.”

The two moved along to a shed, where the sound of clanging metal could be heard. Amanda rapped on the door.

“Hey Consey! Open up.”

The hammering stopped, and the door swung open. For a second, Akko thought it had blown open on its own. An irritated cough drew Akko’s attention downwards.

A small girl glared up at Akko, a pair of goggles perched on her head. Akko bent down, hands on her knees, and smiled, reaching a hand forward to pat her head.

“Hello, little girl! Where’re your parents?”

Amanda gulped. “Hey, Akko-”

Akko’s forehead was suddenly stopped by the barrel of a shotgun. A line of sweat trailed down the side of her head. The girl poked her head a few times, and Akko abruptly stood back up, hands up by her head.

“Woah, woah!” Akko said. “Should little kids-”

“Akko, she’s a full-grown adult. She owns this workshop.” Amanda had her face buried in her hands.

“Oh.” Akko was going cross-eyed staring at the gun. “Uh, Miss…”

“Constanze,” Amanda supplied.

“Miss Constanze, could you lower the gun? Please?”

After a grudging glare, Constanze lowered the shotgun. Although, on second inspection it didn’t look like a shotgun at all. Rather, it seemed to be an amalgamation of various gun parts, assembled into one nasty looking weapon. Akko admired it.

“Wow, Constanze. Did you make this?”

Constanze nodded suspiciously. Akko’s eyes twinkled.

“That’s amazing! Can I see what else you’ve got?” Akko made for the interior of the workshop.

“Aaaaalright, that’s enough, Ms. Sheriff.” Amanda pulled Akko along by the collar. “I’ve got a busy schedule, and I don’t have enough time for this.” As they walked away, Amanda turned back and mouthed, “Sorry!” to Constanze.

Last on the list was Amanda’s bar. Amanda pushed her way in, and hollered, “Jasminka! Sheriff’s here to say hi.” Akko caught a whiff of something from the kitchen behind the bar, and started salivating unconsciously. She’d had a few bits of jerky for breakfast, and that was several hours ago.

A woman that must’ve been Jasminka pushed out of the back. “Hello!” she said cheerily. “Hungry?”

Akko nodded and wiped a trail of saliva from her mouth. “Yes! I’m Akko Kagari, although you probably know that.”

Jasminka nodded. “You’re probably starving. Give me a moment.” She bustled into the kitchen, and came out with a steaming plate of bread, eggs, and sausages. “On the house,” Jasminka said, smiling. Akko’s eyes almost popped out of her head. She dug in, practically inhaling the food.

Amanda whistled. “Jeez, slow down and actually taste what you’re eating. You could probably put up a fair fight in our eating competitions, although Jas always takes first.”

Akko grinned, crumbs stuck to her face. “Sounds fun! I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“So how’d a kid like you become a sheriff? You don’t seem grizzled enough.”

Akko finished her plate and said, “I’ll show you. Grab a gun.”

_____

The duo stood a good distance from the sheriff’s office, the wall of bounty posters mounted outside. Akko squinted at the board.

“What’re you doing?” Amanda asked.

“Picking a target.” Akko’s eyes were drawn to Diana’s poster. It was the most centered, and easiest to pick out. Still though, it seemed a shame to ruin such a nice photo. Akko moved on, settling on a poster depicting a smug man with light hair trimmed sideways. The name had faded away, leaving only an L and a B. “That one. Best of 3.”

Amanda snorted and raised her pistol. She wasn’t the best, but she was a pretty good shot. She squeezed off three shots, then walked over to the board. The first shot had gone into blondie’s cheek, the second in his shoulder. The third went just shy of his neck. It was pretty good by Amanda’s standards. “Not bad, eh?” she said, as she got back to Akko.

Akko nodded. “Calling mine, right between the eyes.” She raised the revolver, sighted down the barrel, and fired calmly, once, twice, and thrice.

The two approached the board, and Amanda saw only a single hole right between the photo’s eyes. She barked a quick laugh.

“I think one good hit and two wild shots makes me the winner of this one.”

Akko took out a knife. Amanda watched nonplussed as she dug out part of the board around her bullet hole. Akko looked at it, then showed it to Amanda.

There were Akko’s 3 bullets, lined up as neatly as three peas in a pod. Amanda’s eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. She appraised Akko with a new eye.

“Not too shabby, Ms. Sheriff.” Akko grinned at the praise. They walked back towards the saloon.

“Hey, I bet you a dime you can’t jump two stories off that balcony.”

“Hold my badge.”

_____

Sucy raised an eyebrow. “You two back?”

Amanda was carrying Akko in her arms. Akko was bleeding. “She fell from the top of a building. Through a plank or two.”

Sucy didn’t react. “Lay her down here.” To Akko she asked, “How did you survive?” as she plucked a 3-inch splinter from her forehead.

“I don’t even know!”


	5. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a minor altercation is orchestrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yes, back again. I'd say this is a Christmas gift, but that's like offering a box of used tissues and calling it a Christmas gift. Yes, it took me half a year to write 3 chapters. Yes, most of it was already done in the first month. Sue me.

Hannah sat on a log next to a snuffed-out campfire and cracked open a can of beans. “Hey, Barbs, want some?” she said to the other girl, sitting a ways away on a flat rock.

Barbara didn’t respond. Hannah looked up over her tin, and saw she had her nose buried in another one of those interminable  _ Nightfall _ books. Hannah picked up a pebble and threw it at the cover, where it made a satisfying little tap. Barbara jumped, whipping her head around wildly, and tried to press the book to her chest in a futile effort to conceal it. “Wha-what? I wasn’t doing anything!”

“Everyone knows about your addiction, Barbara. There’s no point trying to hide it.”

The sides of Barbara’s mouth quirked up sheepishly and she loosened her grip on the offending volume.

Hannah tossed her ponytail back. “Anyways, I was asking if you wanted any beans.”

Barbara nodded and scooted over. The two ate, their spoons quietly clinking against the metal tin. The two were best friends since early childhood, and 

A smattering of tents were spread around a well-sized campfire, arranged in a small ravine. Barbara and Hannah shared a tent, just as they had before they’d met Diana. Diana’s tent was the second largest one in camp, and it was where she planned the gang’s next moves.

The largest tent was a recent addition to the campsite, and was made of bits and bobs of various fabrics sewn together. Its sole occupant rarely left it, and it often rattled, clunked, and bubbled. Right now, it was silent, but that didn’t mean its owner was sleeping. Hannah wasn’t sure if they slept, actually.

The sight of Diana pushing out of her tent snapped Hannah out of her thoughts. She and Barbara stood respectfully. Diana nodded to them.

“Word of mouth is some well-to-do gentleperson has taken to riding through these parts. Sightseeing, apparently. We hit the mark quick, strip them of everything of value, and take them for ransom. Simple enough. Clear?”

Barbara raised a hand. “Question. Wouldn’t that be a lot on our plate now? Especially given the big job-”

Diana silenced her with a look. “I see no reason we cannot balance the two. Do you have a problem with it?” She emphasized the “you”, the subtext that Barbara could easily be excluded obvious. Hannah gulped and nervously eyed the blond outlaw’s revolver.

Barbara shook her head emphatically. “No, no! I was just…”

“Saddle the horses.” Diana flipped her hair back. The two girls jumped to her bidding.

Diana watched for a few seconds.  _ ‘About that big job…’ _ she thought. She walked over to the big tent and pushed her way in.

A figure with a red cloak and a visored metal helmet bent over a table, steadily pouring a flask into a bowl. Despite Diana’s silent entry, the figure paused when Diana entered the ten, freezing hunched over the table. They didn’t turn to face Diana, but spoke from where they stood.

“You know, it’s dangerous to disturb me at my work. One errant twitch, and this entire camp could go boom.”

Diana frowned impatiently. “How is it coming along?”

“It’s coming.” The figure shrugged, and returned to her pouring. “I have every confidence it’ll be completed on schedule.”

Diana nodded. “And your intel?”

“On Mr. Moneybags or the train?”

“Both.” 

The figure removed her helmet and shook out short lilac hair. She smirked at Diana.

“Good, as far as I know. And I’ve not led you astray so far.”

Diana nodded again and left wordlessly. Croix Meridies watched her go, then bent back over her work, whistling lightly. Yes, everything Croix had told Diana was true, but perhaps her plans were a bit bigger than a few small robberies.

Only a bit bigger, though.

The horses were ready when Diana got to Hannah and Barbara, the gear likewise.  _ ‘What fools rich people are,’ _ thought Diana.  _ ‘A pointless ride through the desert? For what? The view? What view?’ _

_____

There was no view to speak of. Andrew simply wanted to get out of that horrid house.

His horse trotted by ugly little shrubs and endless flat grit, hooves kicking up dust. Andrew didn’t care. At least here he was alone and could collect his thoughts. His mind went over the day he disembarked the train again, and he muttered an oath under his breath.

Most of the pieces had fallen into place when the carriage had pulled to a stop along the entrance to a modest estate, elegantly apportioned but somewhat neglected.

“Apologies,” a sharp voice rang out, coming from from the doorway of the house. Andrew had stared as the imposing, hawkish figure of Daryl Cavendish emerged, smiling. As usual, she had a faint hint of greed playing behind her eyes.

As Daryl guided him through the mansion up to his rooms, Andrew had formulated a few guesses as to why he’d been called here, and the plain cream letter signed “Sen. Hanbridge” lying on the desk only confirmed it. Paul desired a connection with the Cavendish household, for some inexplicable reason, and Daryl was a social climber of the most ambitious order.

A marriage alliance. In this day and age. Barbaric. Andrew scoffed in the present.

The question remained, Andrew considered, as to which of the twins he was to be marrying. Although it didn’t matter; Maril and Merrill were as identical as peas in a pod, and identically pea-brained to boot. Andrew had difficulty telling them apart at times. The idea of having to marry one of them was almost physically repulsive.

“Does that cactus look like a donkey?”

Andrew sighed and shook off his thoughts. Frank rode a bit behind him, saddled on his own horse, grinning and pointing at a twisted specimen. Andrew squinted at it.

“Maybe. If you looked at it sideways and had the vision of a geriatric.”

Frank chuckled, and Andrew slipped into a half-smile.

“Ah, now you see it! It’s a matter of perspective.” Frank patted Andrew on the back. “A fresh look at something can change how you approach it.”

“Some problems can’t be solved with a tilt of the head,” Andrew grimaced.

“Aw, come on. You’re out here to forget about all that for now. Relax. All that good stuff. Race you to that butte?”

Andrew didn’t respond, distracted. A trail of dust on the horizon held his attention. “That doesn’t look like a dust devil.”

Frank pulled a pair of binoculars out of a satchel at his side and squinted through them. “A trio on horseback. I think they’re armed?” He lowered his hands, face no longer cheerey. “They could be outlaws. We’re too far from the estate to run for help there.”

Andrew cursed. “Ride hard for Luna Nova, and try to get help. I’ll run them a merry chase.” Frank tried to protest, but Andrew raised a hand. “I’m the better rider, and you know it. Now go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just... feels a bit off to me? Not my best writing. And no one wanted to beta read, so oh well.


	6. The Line and the Witch (sans the Wardrobe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the future is told, more or less.

Being sheriff of Luna Nova wasn’t the most dangerous or exciting job in the world. Most of the time, it consisted of performing odd jobs for whatever anyone needed. Not that Akko minded. She enjoyed helping people, even if she wasn’t the best at it, and getting to know people was the best part.

Lotte and her had become good friends, and while Akko didn’t completely understand Lotte’s obsession with the  _ Nightfall _ series, she did her best to keep track of the plots and the characters. She could understand having an obsession, even if she herself never quite got the books Lotte was always reading. It just wasn’t  _ real _ enough for her. Too many flowery words and not enough life in those pages.

Sucy, on the other hand, seemed to see Akko as her favorite guinea pig. Whenever Akko came into the apothecary's to see what Sucy needed, it was always some random medicine that made Akko’s tongue feel like it was on fire or something.

And so it went, one by one. Akko did her best to be her usual cheerful, endearing self, but apparently this town was full of antisocial, grumpy, and sometimes downright rude shut-ins, who barely said thank you when you dropped by with the bag of flour they asked to have delivered.

With a clatter of tools and metal bits, she stumbled out of Constanze’s workshop, face smudged with ash and hair singed, one hand on the doorframe, the other one waving a strange-looking wrench.

“If you need any help with any of your gadgets, just holler and I’ll be right over! I’ll be happy to do anything you need me to! I-” Akko was cut off as Constanze snatched the wrench out of her hand and gently shoved her out the door, closing it behind her with a bang. It wasn’t quite a slam, but it was close.

“Ooooooooookay. Good talk.” Akko beamed. Sure, some people weren’t the quickest to warm up to her, and Constanze still hadn’t spoken a word to her (even though Akko knew she talked; she’d seen her muttering a few words to Jasminka and Amanda), but Akko knew Constanze adored her. Probably. Akko had gotten better about not breaking things.

“Alright! Next on the list… Ms. Callistis?” Akko frowned. She hadn’t interacted with Ursula at all after that first day in town. Whenever Akko spotted her running some mundane errand, she always seemed somewhat uneasy. Akko wasn’t quite sure why; she did her best to be friendly and polite, but Ursula was always so busy, busy, busy.

Akko didn’t think she was suspicious or shady. Sometimes she knocked stuff over, or seemed a bit overly bubbly, but she was always there putting back the display she’d toppled, or to ask how someone’s day had been.

It was just Akko she avoided, then.

_____

The little cottage out on the prairie grew larger and larger in Akko’s field of view as her horse trotted closer and closer. Akko gently gripped the reins, sitting lightly in the saddle. She’d spent the entire ride talking to the horse, who at this point adored her. They shared a fondness of sugar cubes.

“What should I call you? Brownie? Sierra?” Akko grinned and chuckled. A memory of blue eyes and blonde locks. Akko’s mouth quirked up. “Diana?”

The horse knickered. “Ok, maybe not Diana.” She pulled the reins, bringing the horse to a halt, and hopped off the horse lightly.

Akko appraised the house, and gulped. Ursula’s cabin was small, two stories (well, it looked more like one and a half), but there was something imposing about the sweep of the roof. The tiling was dark, the windows shuttered, and the front porch was cast in shadow from the edge of the roof. Dreamcatchers, windchimes, and garlands of peppers, garlic, and other plants hung from the eaves of the house. 

Akko walked trepidatiously up to the front door and raised her hand to knock, when a white, feathered blur flew at her face, squawking and clawing. Akko screeched, falling backward into the dirt, arms covering her face as this terrifying demon scrabbled for her eyes.

“Alcor! No!”

The claws and beak suddenly disappeared. Akko lowered her arms hesitantly, and watched a white crow flap haphazardly onto the porch railing. In the front door stood Ursula, hands on her hips, glaring at the bird.

“Bad Alcor!” she scolded, then rushed to Akko’s side. “Are you alright?”

Akko patted her face down, then her arms. “Everything’s still in one piece.”

Ursula sighed, relieved. Then she did her best to put on a winning smile.

“Would you like some tea?”

_____

The inside of the house was much cozier than the outside. A crackling fire scattered warm, yellow light across the inside. A few chairs sat arranged around a rug, and a ladder led to a small loft space, where a mattress was set up next to a telescope pointed at a large, circular window.

Ursula blustered around, quickly gathering together assorted, mismatched teaware, knocking books onto the floor, and spouting apologies all the while. “I’m so sorry for Alcor’s rudeness! Please excuse the mess, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting visitors!” She gestured towards a plain wooden chair with a few dents in the back placed next to a small table with a red placemat on it. “Please, please, sit!” As Akko slid into the chair, Ursula placed a small cup of fragrant, gently steaming tea in front of her. Ursula pulled out another chair, this one with an ornately carved back, and sat as well, hands folded together.

Akko sipped her tea. It was delicious, with a floral aroma that reminded Akko of when she was little.

“Oolong?”

“Good taste. It’s imported.” Ursula smiled.

“You know, this place isn’t nearly as witchy as I thought it’d be.” Akko waved her hands. “I expected… you know, talismans, strange animal bits, a skull or two. Kinda like Sucy’s.”

“Well, maybe Sucy isn’t the most rigorous apothecarist.” Ursula chuckled. “She’s much more into the occult than I am.”

Akko leaned in, planting her elbows on the table. “So what do you do?”

“Oh, palm readings, tea leaves. A fair bit of astrology, you know, reading the stars. It’s why I have the big window up top, and that telescope.”

“No crystal ball?”

“Oh, can’t afford one. Besides, they’re mostly just for show anyways.”

Akko bounced in her chair. “Can you read my palm?”

“Ah… well… I mean, I haven’t prepared anything, and this is…”

Akko pouted. Ursula frowned, then sighed and smiled at her. “Well alright. Hold your hand out.” Akko’s hand shot out, the back smacking against the table. “Ouch!” She snatched it back, wincing, rubbed it, then laid it back down more gingerly.

Ursula took Akko’s hand in her own two, perusing its lines. “A fire hand, by the finger-to-palm ratio.” She looked up and smiled. “Indicating passion and confidence, and driven by their desires. Perhaps lacking tact from time to time.”

Akko winced and grinned sheepishly.

“Good Mount of Apollo; optimism, vitality. Luna as well, compassion.” At Akko’s bewildered expression she said, “These are the bigger mounds in your hand. Each ascribe to a different trait. Onto your lines.”

Here Ursula paused and frowned, squinting closer. “Hmmm…”

“Hmmm what?” Akko said, suddenly worried. “Is everything ok?”

“Well, your lines are a bit unusual. First, there’s your heart line.” Ursula traced it with her finger, from below Akko’s index finger to the side of her palm. “The starting location indicates contentedness in relationships, but the breaks in the line suggests turmoil. Multiple lovers?” She looked up sharply.

Akko spluttered. “I’ve never had a ‘lover’ at all! And I’m not the kind of person to have someone on the side!” She’d known guys who were like that. ‘Gal in every town,’ they bragged. Akko had always detested them, especially when they started hitting on her, and wondering aloud why such a ‘delicate flower’ was in such a line of work.

Ursula laughed. “I didn’t peg you as that type either. Well, then, this could mean some other kind of turmoil in your love life, transformative relationships and such.”

“Then we come to your life line. It’s… remarkably short.” Ursula studied it intently. “Your life line signifies your life, so… that’s important. As I interpret it, a short life line signifies the influence of others on your life. It’s deep, so you’ll live fully, but the shortness indicates you’re a free spirit.” Ursula hesitated. “However, some say… that this is more of a… you know, a general measure on the length of your life.”

Akko paled. “So… I’m going to die?”

Ursula waved her hands in front of her frantically. “No, no! That’s just one interpretation, and I personally don’t believe in it! You’re going to be fine, Akko.”

Akko gulped, then threw her arms in the air, trying to muster some confidence. “Yeah! I’m going to live forever!” she shouted, accidentally tipping the chair backwards. She windmilled her arms wildly, and crashed against the floor.

Ursula sighed and put two fingers against her forehead. “Maybe not forever.”

Akko clambered back to her feet. “Anyways, I have this to protect me!” She pulled the revolver from her hip, holding it triumphantly before her, pointing it at the roof.

Ursula swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “M-may I see that, Akko?”

“Sure.” Akko handed it over, curious.

Ursula turned the gun over in her palm, twirled it lightly in her grip. It was just as light as she remembered, with a marvelous balance she never found ever again. “No tarnishing, or signs of wear at all,” she murmured softly. “Just like it was…”

“Was?”

Ursula squeaked. “Ah, nothing. It’s just that it hasn’t changed since I last saw it.”

Akko stared, wide-eyed. “You’ve seen it before? Then you knew Chariot!”

Stupid. Ursula cursed inwardly.

“Ah, knew isn’t quite right. More like a passing acquaintance.” She instantly cringed away from Akko’s sudden barrage of questions, ranging from Chariot’s personality to her favorite shoes.

“Akko, Akko! I really didn’t know her that well. I can’t answer all that,” Ursula lied. Akko frowned, and threw her arms back behind her head.

“Well, can’t you tell me any-WAUGH!” she shouted, unbalancing herself again and falling to the floor. Really, it was a minor miracle the chair hadn’t broken yet, Ursula thought.

BAM BAM BAM.

Ursula jumped. Akko, still on the floor, looked up and backwards at the door.

“Hello?” came a desperate, male voice. The door, which Ursula had never fully closed, pushed open gently, and a young blond man stepped into the room. He started babbling, “I was supposed to get to town, but I forgot the way, and then I saw this house, and please, I need help-”

Ursula stood, and raised her hands placatingly. “Calm down, sir. What do you need?”

“It’s my friend. He’s being chased by bandits! I got away, but they’re still after him-”

“Bandits?” Akko bounced to her feet impressively, hands not touching the floor. “Where?”

“Uh, out… uh… thataway.” He pointed behind him, a little to his left. Akko grabbed the gun from Ursula and sprinted for the door. “I’ll find them!” she hollered.

“Wait, miss!” Frank gaped. “Who even are you?”

Akko hopped onto her horse and pulled the reins. It bucked, front hooves pawing the air, Akko clinging to the reins with her right hand and pushing her hat down onto her head with the left.

“I’m the sheriff!”

And with that, she was gone, tearing up a line of dust into the desert.

Frank’s mouth moved wordlessly. He slowly looked back towards Ursula.

Ursula raised the pot timorously. "Tea?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about palmistry, and this was all random Google blurbs. I'm inclined to call it all poppycock.


	7. The Good, the Bad, and the Frankly Ridiculous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which guns are pointed.

Andrew desperately spurred his horse. “Faster, faster,” he muttered under his breath.

It didn’t matter; they were catching up.

Andrew was a good horseman, and he’d managed to outride two of the bandits, who had peeled off and left the chase to their compatriot. However, the third clung obstinately to his trail like a buzzard to carrion, and was slowly gaining over the course of the half-hour chase. Soon they’d be within firing range.

A few shots whizzed over Andrew’s head.  _ Not soon, _ he corrected himself.  _ Now. _ He drew his own gun and blindly returned fire.

“Stop!” an authoritative voice commanded him. A female one at that. “Stop, or I shoot!”

There was no way in hell he was stopping, Andrew thought.  _ ‘Not with her right on my tail.’ _

A gunshot whizzed straight through his hat, knocking it off his head. A warning shot, a dead accurate one at that.

Ok, maybe now was the time to stop.

Andrew reined his horse in, and hopped off behind it, keeping it between him and the bandit, who rode up a few seconds later. He heard the click of a readied revolver.

“Step out from behind the animal,” the woman commanded.

Andrew breathed in, out, then stepped out, whirling, his gun aimed directly at the bandit’s face. Startled blue eyes looked back at him.

“You!” she said.

Andrew raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Diana Cavendish and Andrew Hanbridge stood, facing each other, guns raised. At this distance it’d take a miracle to miss.

“I didn’t know you’d taken up a life of crime, Ms. Cavendish,” Andrew remarked coolly.

“I didn’t expect you to be out here, Mr. Hanbridge,” Diana returned, equally coolly. “As a matter of fact, why are you here?”

“Business. And you?”

“Crime,” Diana remarked drily.

“You know what I mean. Why?”

Diana’s eyes hardened. “You don’t need to know why.”

Andrew sighed. “You aren’t going to shoot me.”

“And why wouldn’t I?” Diana’s voice wavered slightly.

“Well, I’d like to think our shared acquaintance would predispose you towards not doing so. And more relevantly, you aren’t a cold-blooded killer. Unless you’ve changed significantly in the time you started doing… this.” Andrew waved his left hand noncommittally. “Quite frankly, I think I know you well enough to know you won’t shoot me.”

“I would prefer not to,” Diana admitted. “However, I’ll require your… discretion.”

“On my honor.” Andrew smiled slightly, then paused. “Do you hear something?”

The two turned and saw a single silhouette of a person on horseback rapidly approaching.

“Aw, hell,” Andrew said.

“Not one of mine,” Diana replied. Neither lowered their weapons from each other as they watched the rapidly approaching figure. And neither of them moved before Akko Kagari rode up and hopped off her horse (almost tripping in the stirrups), fumbling for her revolver and raising it to level with the two.

_____

“Reach for the sky!” Akko shouted authoritatively, a bit loudly so as to cover up her mistake.

Neither Diana nor Andrew moved their guns away from each other.

“I said hands up, Ms. Diana Cavendish!” Akko shouted.

Andrew lowered his gun, holding his arms up placatingly towards Akko. “Miss, I’m sure there’s no nee-”

Akko turned, bringing her gun to bear on Andrew. “You too, mister! Drop the weapon.”

Andrew came up short, nonplussed. “Why are you pointing the gun at me?”

Akko stuck her tongue out. “Both of you look mighty suspicious to me! You’re probably in league. Accomplices.” She enunciated the last word clearly, drawing out each syllable.”

Andrew threw his hands up in the air. “She was chasing  _ me _ on horseback, firing at me, and  _ I’m _ the suspicious one?”

“Yeah!”

Andrew didn’t know what to say to that.

Diana sighed, and holstered her gun. “Ms. Sheriff, I don’t think this is a particularly good demonstration of your tal-”

“How is she the sheriff?” Andrew’s consternation was more apparent on his face by the minute.

“Aside from the fact that we’ve already met, she’s wearing the badge.”

Andrew looked. “You’re right, but-”

Akko stamped her foot. “I’m the sheriff, and I have the gun, and you have to do what I say! Hands in the air!”

Andrew grudgingly raised his hands into the air. Diana, on the other hand, walked casually to her horse.

“What are you doing?” Akko demanded.

“Leaving this farce of an arrest.” Diana swung herself up into the saddle in one swift motion. “Good day, Mr. Hanbridge. It was a pleasure.” Andrew nodded politely.

“Wait, now, hang on! I’ve got a gun! You can’t do that!” Akko waved her gun to emphasize her point.

Diana stopped and looked over. “You won’t shoot me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Akko’s gesticulations grew wilder. She seemed to be stabbing with her revolver like it was a knife.

“Hyah!” Diana shouted, her horse spurred into motion. As she rode away, Diana called out, “Because you’re too soft for this line of work.”

“YOU’RE THE SOFT ONE!” Akko hollered at the top of her lungs. She squinted down the sight of her revolver and aimed it square at Diana’s back.

“Pew! Pew pew!” she mumbled. Diana grew smaller and smaller until she became a speck on the horizon.

Andrew watched, one eyebrow raised. Akko turned to face him.

“Well, Ms. Sheriff, this has been… interesting, but I really must be -” Andrew stopped when he heard a metallic click, and looked at his hands, which had just been cuffed by Akko in one swift motion.

“Mr. Sus, you aren’t going anywhere.” Akko picked Andrew up like he was a sack of loudly protesting potatoes, and slung him onto his horse, facing the back.

“Madam, I’ve already established that I’m not a-”

“Up-bup-bup!” Akko interrupted grumpily. “I’m not going home empty-handed, so you’re coming with me.” She tied Andrew’s horse to her own, hopped up on the saddle, and spurred her horse towards Luna Nova, Andrew bouncing up and down unhappily in tow.

Andrew almost wished he’d stayed at the manor. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any authors out there, do you ever worry about your chapters being too short? Google says the average length of a chapter is between 1,500 and 5,000 words. I don't know exactly how long my chapters are, but I know these last 3 chapters have been around 4,000 total.


End file.
